


Sized Up

by froofie



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, Sherlock - Fandom, benedict cumberbatch rpf - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Nick Hart, POV First Person, Shy, Spencer Hart, Suit, benedict cumberbatch rpf, fashion - Freeform, real person fic, real person fiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 13:52:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1187688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froofie/pseuds/froofie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another meet-cute with Benedict Cumberbatch. </p><p>For Jenna, thank you for the prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sized Up

“Just stay here, I’ll go pick up some lunch for us.”

"Nick!" I expressed a great deal of hesitation at being left alone and offered to go get it myself even if I didn’t know where the curry place was. I was in London, for God's sake, there’s one on every corner.

“It’ll be fine, dear niece. Look. We’re in a high end men’s fashion store. It’s late morning on a Wednesday. There’s a tube strike. Nobody’s going to come in looking for a suit today and I have no appointments booked. My sales associate and my tailor couldn’t even get here. Have a seat behind the counter and I’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.” He chastised me with a smile on his stubbled stern face and walked out the front door.

I begrudgingly plopped myself down behind the well-lit check out desk at the Spencer Hart boutique and quickly lost myself in a book I’d been reading off and on since I took the train up to visit my family in London for the week. The immaculately organized store was deliciously quiet without my chatty relation but somehow I failed to hear the chime when the door opened. The man tapped a bubbly beat on the desk to get my attention. I jumped and might have squealed.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you alright?”

My God it took me forever to take him all in. He took a step back when I made eye contact. A smile broke out on my face, I couldn’t help myself. He beamed back.

“No, yes. I’m...I’m fine. I’m naturally skittish. Hi! Hello!”

“Well, my apologies.” He was unusually beautiful. Charming with a comforting quiet energy to him I’d never experienced before. I could do nothing but stare, which meant neither one of us did anything for a couple of seconds, as he waited for me to, well, wait on him.

“Oh! Yes! Right! Forgive me! How can I help you?” I stood and smoothed out my skirt. Did I look alright? I was acutely aware that I may not have been professionally dressed. Not “professional,” that wasn’t the word. What was I going for? Pretty. Yes. I felt a strong desire to be pretty. Was I pretty to him? Did he like me? What was wrong with me?! I was completely disarmed. His hair was so _dreamy_.

“Is Nick in? I came by to pick up a suit." He scanned the store like a curious eager fawn looking to play. He blatantly sized me up. "It’s a bit early, I know, but I’ve been called away for an event tonight and thought maybe I would drop in in case it was ready.” He looked positively _snuggly_ in his jacket, cardigan, t-shirt and scarf.

“No, he stepped out, but let me see what I can do.” I scrambled to the back of the store partly to text Nick, partly to catch my breath. My heart was beating and my stomach felt funny. I started to text my uncle.

**_Someone is here to-_**

I peeked my head out into the showroom. He was staring at his phone.

“I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“Cumberbatch. C as in Charlie, U as in-”

“Okay, thanks!” I went back to hiding.

**_Someone named Cumberbatch is here to pick up a suit. Says he knows he’s early, but wanted to check anyway._ **

Send. A minute passed. I poked my head around the corner back in the showroom. He had earbuds in and was swaying to music in front of a tie display.

My phone beeped.

 ** _Benedict! Yes, actually, his suit is ready. You’ll find it on a rack in the tailor’s area. Should have his name on it. Blue velvet tuxedo. Get him to try it on for you. Make sure it fits._ **

I walked over to the suit rack and saw a garment bag with the name Benedict Cumberbatch on it. My text alert went off.

**_Try not to swoon too hard. I know you. And I know him._ **

Too late, uncle mine, I thought. Too fucking late.

When Benedict stepped out of the dressing room I was struck by two things: one he got more beautiful by the second and two, his piled up street clothes on the dressing room floor was the most erotic thing I think I’d ever seen. I stared. I blushed. He caught me.

 _Just act professional_ , I kept telling myself. He seemed oblivious to my inexperience.

“How do I look?” He stood in front of the mirror, buttoning his jacket, straightening his wrist cuffs, chest puffed out.

Oh, he was handsome. Overwhelmingly so. He went from boy to man in the blink of an eye. I swallowed. “You look...good. How, um. Does it fit okay?” I took a step towards him. I wanted to touch. Or be touched. Both. My mouth. My mouth felt....weird. Active without moving. It wanted to move...on him. Okay, that was new. I put a heavier damper on my feelings.

“Like a glove. It’s so soft. Feel-”

I took another step closer, to remove a white string that was hanging off the back of his collar, but he spun around as I reached out, knocking us both off balance a bit. He grabbed at my bent elbow to steady us. My upper thigh brushed his, well, his front belt area. I mumbled an apology. We stood erect, nervously laughing, and rather close, for a moment.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I was just trying to get-” I reached around his neck for the string. He leaned his head forward for me. I produced the offensive thread like a magician would a coin behind the ear, dangling it between us. He laughed and feigned childlike amusement. I let it flutter to the floor. We stood there, probably too close for too long. He swiped an index finger over his lips. I took a step back. I was a professional. I was a professional! He smiled again and I spied his dimple. I was...in trouble. No! Pro-FESH-ON-AL. I straightened up, my voice slightly more commanding and less “Your place or mine?”

“Yes, it looks perfect on you! Lovely choice, velvet.” I smoothed my hand, professionally, over his arm.

“You don’t think it’s too much do you?”

“Certainly not. It works on you.”

“I can be known for terrible taste in clothing. Nick’s good about keeping me from making too much of a fool of myself when it comes to fashion.”

“You can trust his judgement completely.”

“Is that so? That’s good to know.” He smiled to himself.

“Let’s see you from behind.” Yes, let’s see him from behind. Good idea.

He faced the mirror again. Lifted up his jacket a bit, wiggled his bottom a bit. I chuckled to myself.

“Well, there are no visible panty lines, so I think we’re good back here.”

That garnered a cheeky “Oooh!” in response.

I stood just off to his side, looking at his reflection. No. Looking at our reflection.

“How’s the trouser cuff?” We both looked down at his stockinged feet.

“Well, we should try the suit on with shoes. Um.” I looked around the store. “Did you bring dress shoes?”

“I usually have a pair in my car, but I’m on my motorbike today. No room.”

Motorbike.

Guh.

I mentally smacked my hand.

No! I am a _business-lady._

“Oh, that’s fine. Let me find some for you in the back.” He told me his size and soon we were once again in front of the mirror, with two shiny black shoes completing the ensemble. I kneeled down next to him, playing with the hem, I have no idea why, it just seemed the thing to do.

“Is it cut, um, right?” Clearly I didn’t know the lingo. My head hung down. He turned to face me. I watched two shoes point towards me. Me...on my knees now with his zipper by my forehead.

“It cuts fine there at the laces I think.” I looked up at him. Something naughty flashed across his face. Later on I realized I was wearing a low cut blouse. His lips curled up in a quiet smile. My eyes must have done the same. I don’t remember ever seeing a man that hot blush. Men that hot don’t blush, do they? I was dealing with a rare creature. I decided that if I couldn’t act professional, I could at least treat him tenderly. With _respect._

But I’m pretty sure he had a bit of a chubby.

+++

I managed to get him all settled, back in his wrinkly street clothes and off on his motorbike. I watched him zoom away with the garment bag folded in his lap, just as Nick came bouncing up the corner cradling our take-out.

“Did I miss him?”

“Yeah. Just.”

“Shame.”

Just as we were tucking in to our chicken curry, Nick got a text. He read it and then handed the phone to me.

_**You were right. Your niece is lovely.** _

“What? How did he know-?”

“I texted him after I texted you. Explained who you were.”

“And who am I?”

“My niece.”

“Oh.”

“My _single_ niece.”

“Nick!” My face went red.

“Said to keep his hands off you, though.”

He sent a reply. I didn’t see what.

“I’m a grown woman, uncle. I can do what I want.”

“That you are and that’s what I just told him.”

“What?!”

A second text came through. He replied again.

“What you typing?” I grabbed at his phone, but then mine went off.

“You better get that.”

_**Your uncle has given me permission to ask you to a movie premiere tonight. You know, in case I need my cuffs adjusted. Interested? -Benedict. Velvet suit.** _

I started to reply when a second transmission came through

_**As long as I keep my hands off you.** _

I replied.

_**No deal.** _

I waited a beat before sending another text:

_**Hands. On.** _

 

  
I am so unprofessional.


End file.
